Baldur Bjarnason

Take these Icelandic works as representational, as suggested by the titles Oceans and Quake, and perhaps Metacosmos. Or take them as abstract, along the lines of the title Concurrence (and that of the successful predecessor to this album, Recurrence). It doesn't really matter: the perspectives converge in the music, which is virtuosic and dense, yet elemental and viscerally affecting. The four works might be grouped in several ways. Haukur Tómasson's Piano Concerto No. 2 and Páll Ragnar Pálsson's Quake each make use of a solo instrument (in Pálsson's case a cello), and listeners could easily become engrossed in the treatment of the soloist in these two works alone.

At the risk of getting doxxed by my musician colleagues, I'm going to divulge a dark truth about classical music: it's never as captivating or molecule-altering for anyone as it is for us on stage. Which is why I often find classical records, especially those of the orchestral persuasion, so underwhelming.

There is an evaporating quality to the music of Icelandic composer and conductor Daníel Bjarnason, with sounds that can start softly or loudly, serenely or fiercely, but ultimately dissipate into intangible air. This album, conducted by the composer himself, showcases this characteristic in three captivating works in all-new versions. In Bow to String, the three movements undergo a mesmerizing transformation from a pounding passacaglia to an exhale of frozen breath. In Over Light Earth, the sounds tremble before dispersing to the far edges of the orchestra. And in the Larkin Songs, Bjarnason reflects on fleeting companionship and love.

Deutsche Grammophon is proud to release the world premiere recording of Jóhann Jóhannsson’s A Prayer to the Dynamo. This major orchestral work was inspired in general by the composer’s fascination with technology, and in particular by field recordings he made at Iceland’s Elliðaár power plant and the writings of Henry Adams.

The unifying idea of the concerto provides a way to get a handle on György Ligeti's experimental spirit, for a concerto here represents several fundamentally different things. The Cello Concerto of 1966, right at the height of Ligeti's exuberantly fearless adventures in 1960s Germany, might almost be called an anti-concerto, with the cello doing its best to hang on the edge of silence. Sample the very first movement, both for the precision of cellist Christian Poltéra's work at the low end of the dynamic spectrum and for the ideally clean engineering work by the BIS label, operating in a variety of Norwegian venues and mastering them, well, masterfully. The Chamber Concerto for 13 Instruments and the Melodien are essentially concertos for orchestra, with distinctive roles for each of the instruments, while the five-movement Piano Concerto, completed in 1988, is a fine and technically demanding example of Ligeti's later pulse-based, polyrhythmic style.

Dieter Ammann has won numerous international awards and is now one of the most renowned Swiss composers of his generation. The multilayered unbalanced instability is a concerto for violin and chamber orchestra that seeks unpredictability and shifting perspectives between solo and orchestra. Ammann’s slowly developed orchestral triptych reflects his meticulous working methods. Core reshapes and transcends its improvised origins, while the slowly unfolding Turn serves as an adagio in the set. The irrepressible energy of Boost forms the kind of dramaturgy of tension and release that led Boulez to describe Ammann’s music as ‘artistic reflected spontaneity at the highest level’.

Dieter Ammann has won numerous international awards and is now one of the most renowned Swiss composers of his generation. The multilayered unbalanced instability is a concerto for violin and chamber orchestra that seeks unpredictability and shifting perspectives between solo and orchestra. Ammann’s slowly developed orchestral triptych reflects his meticulous working methods. Core reshapes and transcends its improvised origins, while the slowly unfolding Turn serves as an Adagio in the set. The irrepressible energy of Boost forms the kind of dramaturgy of tension and release that led Boulez to describe Ammann’s music as ‘artistic reflected spontaneity at the highest level’.